


aftermath

by armethaumaturgy



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Inside View, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:47:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28320366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armethaumaturgy/pseuds/armethaumaturgy
Summary: “Gold,” he said in place of a usual nickname.Though it took a couple moments, Gold raised his head eventually, just a bit. His face was stained by the dried remains of what must’ve been rivulets of tears, and his eyelights were hazy and unfocused.
Relationships: Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> dont look @ me

Sunlight filtered inside, broken by the stained glass and throwing lines of colors across the tiled floor. The hall stretched far, almost endlessly so, though he knew it wasn’t so.

The pillars lining the walls seemed taller, somehow, and the windows bigger. It was just a feeling. Fresh knew this was no different from any other Judgement hall, and the feeling of being dwarfed by it was only a byproduct of its Judge.

Its Judge, who was currently close to slumping against one of the pillars, head hung and fingers digging into the marble. He looked small, and it was almost impossible to see how hard he was shaking, until Fresh got closer.

“Gold,” he said in place of a usual nickname.

Though it took a couple moments, Gold raised his head eventually, just a bit. His face was stained by the dried remains of what must’ve been rivulets of tears, and his eyelights were hazy and unfocused.

“Fresh,” he said back, echoing between the walls more than Fresh’s voice had. His features betrayed no emotion as he read over his status, a simple  **HEYA** , but Fresh wasn’t deterred.

“Yep, that’s me.”

Gold stared at him, blinking slow and too regular for him not to be doing it consciously. He pushed himself off the pillar — or tried to, at least — and tried to stand up straight, but really just ended up leaning back against the marble, sans the whole digging-his-fingers-into-it thing this time.

“Why are you here?”

“I dunno, why are  _ you _ here?”

Finally Gold’s impassive look broke, and his browbones scrunched together, just a bit. “This is… our domain. We are supposed to be here.”

Fresh exhaled through his nasal aperture in lieu of a scoff, and pushed his sleeves up above his elbows. “Actually, broski, it's not good for you. Not flyin’ at all. Now, I'm gonna touch you,” he said, raising both hands in front of himself to show they were empty.

Gold eyed him warily, eyelights fluttering from his face to his hands. Fresh let him have his moment of panicked memories, more than willing to wiggle his fingers a bit to drive his point home.

Gold didn’t say no.

So Fresh crossed the last three steps of space between them and wrapped him in his arms. Aside from a harsh jerk, Gold didn’t move, not closer, but not away, either.

“Tell me, Gold, how're you hangin'?”

“We…” Gold frowned further. “No one is hanging.”

Fresh rolled his eyelight behind his glasses and proceeded to lower them both onto the floor. “How’re y’ _ feelin’ _ , Gold,” he amended. For Gold, he’d give up a little bit of his lingo. 

“We are fine,” was the answer, a little too quick, a little too loud, a little too echo-y.

“No lyin’ now.”

Fresh broke off the hug, sat between Gold’s spread, curled legs. He stared into Gold’s sockets, watching his eternal heart-eyes flicker from dim to too-dim and right back.

He was stuck back in the past, back in another loop, and he was not looking forward to the next one

Fresh took a hold of his (shaking) hand, held it with both of his, and Gold blinked the memories away, gradually; the darkness of them bleeding away in favor of the sunshine casting soft shadows on Fresh’s clothes..

“Fresh?” he asked, looking at his brofriend, this time  _ properly _ . “Heh, what’s up? Came to get judged? ‘Cause I don’t think I got the  _ guts  _ for it right now.”

Fresh’s glasses decided it was the perfect time for some sarcasm, and they swapped the status for an  **LMAO** . “Yeah, sure. Dude, you realize you've been gone for days now, right? I got hella worried.”

“Days?  _ Shoot _ , I didn’t realize…” Gold lowered his head again, hands fisting his hoodie. He looked just about ready to go into another spiral. Too bad that wasn't something Fresh was about to let happen.

“Oh, bro, it’s chill, you know it’s chill, right? It's aiite now. Everything’s chill.”

He coaxed Gold’s hands to uncurl, but they just latched onto him instead, Gold all but throwing himself onto his chest. Fresh held him as he shook, muttering reassurances all the while. Maybe he should’ve come to check the hall sooner, when Gold wasn’t opening his texts, much less replying to them.

His stupid, stupid lover, thinking he had to deal with everything on his own. They were brofriends for a reason, and Fresh would remind him. As many times as it took.

Despite the previous implication of being wiped, magic roiled and coiled around Gold’s form, flaring in his joints and through the holes of his jacket with nowhere else to go. If Gold needed an outlet, well, Fresh was as willing as ever.

His hand was steady on its way down his front, practiced motions of drumming against his ribs through the thin layer of his shirt. Gold, in his endless wisdom, pulled away from the crushing embrace to lean backwards, though he was still sprawled all over Fresh’s lap. His head rested against the pillar, and Fresh didn’t move him only because his hood was providing a buffer.

“That's it, just chill,” he crooned, dipping his phalanges under the hem of Gold’s shorts. Magic gathered there, sparking with intensity, but unformed. 

Gold’s hand wrapped around Fresh’s wrist and stopped it from trailing across the surface of it. “I’m fine,” he insisted. Fresh opted to ignore it, or at least appear to ignore it. His glasses, as betraying as ever, gave him away with a  **SRSLY?**

“So ya don't want it, then?”

He knew just as well as Gold himself did that he never passed up an offer like this. The hand on Fresh’s wrist fell away, only to grip onto the edge of his shorts when he traced the shapeless mass of magic, barely even touching it.

Gold made a soft sound, his head lolling back. Fresh knew his tells, and he most definitely knew this one, so he pulled his hand away, just in time for the magic to solidify, take the shape of Gold’s ecto-body. In line with his namesake, it looked like molten gold, almost yellow in the light, and shining with the barest movement.

Fresh’s grin widened, hand back to run across the malleable surface of his stomach, pushing down just enough to have Gold’s breath stuttering. “That's what I thought.”

The tension was slowly leaving Gold’s form, bit by bit, and his shifting legs around Fresh’s hips were a testament to what he thought of Fresh’s attempt at teasing. “See something you like?”

Gold’s smug look faltered just a bit when Fresh’s softened, and he said, “Yep, I do.”

It took so little to get Gold going; the fact that Fresh had pulled his shorts down earlier was a blessing now. Gold’s cock stood against his stomach, equally as dripping as his entrance. He glanced up at Fresh’s face and almost groaned, hand pushing against his cheek as if to push him away, though with no force.

“Stop taunting me,” he said, referring to the  **NICE** proudly displayed across his brofriend’s glasses.

“I ain’t.”

Before Gold could come up another of his witty remarks, Fresh wrapped one hand around his shaft, and plunged two of his fingers into his entrance. The ecto spread for him, pliant and slick, and so, so warm.

That seemed to shut Gold up — word-wise, anyways. The moan he let out was almost melodic, especially echoing between the pillars. Fresh knew what Gold liked, but he wanted to make him wait for it. Just a little. Not like he had much patience himself, not when presented with such a delicious sight.

His hands moved in slow strokes and shallow thrusts, just enough to rile Gold up and not much else. He wondered how long Gold would be able to hold out, or if he would be the impatient one this time.

Gold bucked into his touches, writhing between the two sensations as he tried to get more. “Oh c’mon, you know I can take you.”

It would seem the answer had been about four whole seconds. Works for him.

“I dunno, can ya?” He crooked his fingers, causing Gold to outright jerk. If his legs weren’t wrapped around his waist, he probably would’ve gotten kicked.

“ _Funk_! ”

Grinning, Fresh deemed it enough, and pulled it fingers out and away, wiping the residue on his shirt. “That ain’t very fresh of ya.”

“The only fresh thing about me is gonna be your cock as it rams in me, now c’mon,” Gold demanded, fumbling with the zipper of Fresh’s shorts, only shoving them open enough to wrap his hand around Fresh’s stringing length. Fresh’s breath left him in a gasp, and Gold was looking at him with half-lidded sockets, only making it worse. “Please.”

“How can I say no to that?” Fresh laughed. He batted Gold’s hand away, taking the opportunity to thread their fingers together. He pushed them against the pillar, folding Gold almost in half, and took hold of himself with the other hand.

The tip of his length probed at the entrance, smearing Gold’s slick around more than anything. Gold wiggled, as much as he could in his current position, which wasn’t much. Fresh let him, for a moment, if only to watch the desperate look cross his face, flush high on his cheekbones.

“Please, c’mon, stop teasin’ me, c’mon c’mon, ple—ah!”

Fresh pushed in, Gold’s ecto spreading for him like it was made for it, wrapping around him just tight enough to make his spine tingle. “There ya go.”

Gold’s eyesockets had fallen shut, browbones scrunched up so cutely, and teeth parted just enough for Fresh to take the invitation, lean over, and press his own teeth against them. Fresh’s tongues slipped past Gold’s lips, meeting his own tongue to coax it into play. Gold squeezed his fingers, holding on tight as their hips slotted together. He felt so deliciously full, and Fresh was pressing down against him, trapping his cock between them.

“Yesss,” he drawled, muffled against the other’s tongues. His magic felt strung up already, and Fresh wasn’t even moving yet. Fresh pulled away from the kiss and moved down to his neck, licking along two vertebrae at a time, and every single touch against the exposed joint magic was sending shivers through Gold’s entire body.

Fresh’s free hand, the one not holding Gold’s in its vice, moved from Gold’s iliac crest to his shirt to push it up, above where the ecto stopped and ribs started, and he ran one of his tongues across his teeth.

“Gold,” he said, snapping his hips back and in again, to get Gold’s attention. Not that he didn’t have it already, but he needed his brofriend’s sight for this. “Look down here.”

Gold’s flickering eyelights followed his directions, down to his exposed stomach and… the purple length inside him, looking almost magenta through the sheen of his yellow. Gold’s own cock twitched as Fresh pulled out again, setting a slow pace. Every time he pulled out, an almost unnoticeable trail of purple pre was left inside him, dispersed every time Fresh pushed back in, distending the ecto with its size.

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, stars!” Gold moaned, unable to look away. His toes curled, feet pulling Fresh as close as monsterly possible, and he came just like that, stripes of golden residue painting their shirts and drenching Fresh’s lap.

“Well, that was quick,” Fresh chuckled, tone much too soft for the intended teasing jab. He was soaking in every second of Gold’s blissed out expression, the way his half-open eyesockets lacked lights, the way his flush spilled down to his neck, the way he was shaking, all of it. “Y’still up for more?”

Gold, in lieu of an answer, pushed against Fresh’s next thrust.

“A’ight, lemme know when you’ve had enough,” Fresh said, back to holding onto Gold’s hip, the ecto squishing between his fingers.

He sped up, muffling his own little noises into Gold’s neck. His teeth teased the vertebrae, much to Gold’s very vocal delight. Gold met each of his thrusts, with varying degrees of accuracy, but a lot of them seemed to hit exactly where he wanted. His moans and gasps were a testament to that.

“Lookit you… so pretty all worked up,” Fresh whispered, breath still close enough to make Gold shiver.

“Shut up,” Gold slurred back, “Don’t stop, don’t— stars, more, please, please, please!”

His begging, his willingness, was absolutely breathtaking. He was like putty in Fresh’s hold, all his greatness and strength gone for the moment. Fresh could do anything he wanted.

And what he wanted right now was get a hand around Gold’s cock, which meant dragging both their hands down between them and, without unlinking them, wrapping them around the weeping, already-soiled length. Their thumbs circled the other side; he didn’t move them any further, just let Gold fuck himelf through their grip with each and every thrust.

Fresh’s pace stuttered because Gold kept tensing around him, but he kept it up; he was getting close himself, but he wanted to see Gold lose himself once more before he finished. He bit down on the side of Gold’s neck, leaving behind marks that would stay there for days if Gold wished them to.

“Shit, Fresh! Yes!”

That seemed to be Gold’s tipping point, and he spilled between them again, adding to the mess. Fresh bit back another remark about his stamina, but only because Gold’s walls fluttering around him were bringing him ever closer.

He slammed into Gold, their hips clacking together so loud he was surprised it didn’t echo. Once, twice, thrice, was all he managed. He came buried inside Gold as deep as he could, spilling himself into the ever-accomodating ecto-flesh.

He moaned his pleasure into Gold’s neck, and Gold echoed with his own moan. It took more than he was willing to admit to stay upright and not collapse on top of his brofriend.

“There, are you vibin’?”

“I’m vibin’ so hard, Fresh,” Gold muttered, still out of it. That was fine, though, because Gold’s grin was soft and satisfied, and he was looking down at himself. Through his ecto-stomach, they could both see Fresh’s cum, lighter than the purple that dripped out of his entrance. He untangled their hands and reached up to cup Fresh’s skull and pull him into another kiss, a small clink of teeth that was much too tender for what they’d just done.

“Well, how about vibin’ harder back at the crib, huh?”

“Stars, that’d be great.” 

Fresh pulled away, righted his shorts and then pulled Gold’s back up and his shirt back down. There were splatters of yellow all over it, but nothing that wouldn’t dissipate within an hour. Gold tried to stand up, but Fresh had to catch him by the arms when he wobbled.

“You uh, straight?” Gold sent him a deadpan look, and it would’ve been effective, were his eyelights not flickering in and out of focus. “Right. Want me to carry you?”

“Hmm…” Gold drawled, pretending to think, but only so he could lean in and surprise Fresh with another small peck. His glasses betrayed his surprise, proudly showcasing  **?!?!** , but so did the flush re-appearing on his cheekbones. “Go ahead, bro.”

Fresh grinned and scooped his brofriend up in his arms with surprising lack of effort. See, that had been Gold’s fatal mistake. He was now forced to stay in kissing range, all the way home. 

And Fresh decided they’d take the scenic route.


End file.
